About Russian dolls and fabulous design ideas
by takitaka
Summary: Happy Russia on a shopping mission and Poland with his usual bright ideas. Cold Warsaw evening, scary street names, a bit of arguing around and rather unexpected finish.


It was rather cold October evening, not as much as it was maybe two days earlier, but enough to make people stay in thicker coats, scarves and hats. As always, the city centre was crowded with people, mostly those coming back from school or work. In some places it was even hard to walk without bumping at someone every two seconds; something Poland really didn't enjoy.

"Hey, you!"

Still, even during all that chaos and discomfort, he didn't have the slightest problem with recognizing that particular scarf and posture. And if he was right, and he could totally bet that he was, he also caught a glimpse of a very big nose.

"Hey, R—Ivan!"

This finally made Russia stop in his tracks and turn around with a curious look on his face. Poland quickly elbowed his way through a crowd of people that separated them, feeling his cheeks burn. How was it possible that everyone heard his calling and looked at him, but not the one he was actually calling to? He could swear Russia did this on purpose.

"Hello, Feliks," he heard when he finally got to Russia's side, panting. "How are you doing today?"

"Like, cut the crap," Poland scowled up at him, trying to put everything into one bag to have at least one free hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Russia didn't seem to be bothered by Poland's attitude in the slightest and he smiled happily, his cheeks flushed pleasantly, probably from the quick walk.

"Shopping!"

Poland stared. "Okaaaaay," he forced finally, when it became obvious that Russia wouldn't say anything else. "But like, why in my capital?"

"Why not?" Russia asked, sounding genuinely curious. "It's a nice capital!"

"Sure it is!" Poland replied immediately, shifting with – now one, but pretty damn heavy – bag in his hand. "But why can't you like, I dunno? Shop in your own?"

"Ah, I'm looking for some matryoshka!" Russia explained, still happily. "I lost one piece of mine, you see. So I thought I could just buy a new one!"

"Yeah, like, whatever." Poland really didn't care at all about any of Russia's toys that he lost. He'd also like to cross his arms against his chest, but it was rather impossible with his bag. "But why HERE?"

"I told you, I'm looking for matryoshka!" Russia repeated in form of explanation and suddenly looked around. "I haven't visited in a long time. For fun," he added after a while.

"Well, you sure as hell weren't missed," Poland snapped at him and sighed. "Will you like, go away if you buy that toy?"

Russia nodded eagerly, still smiling, and Poland finally realized that for some reason he was just in a very good mood.

"Okay." He changed the hand he was holding the bag in, taking a deep breath. "So like, not far away from here is that totally cool shop with folk stuff and maybe they'll have it there. You like, have to go along the Świętokrzyska street and then turn into the Nowy Świat and then go right… um no, wait, left… Well, it's gonna be my left and your right. Of course you're gonna turn around to go there, so after you do it's gonna be your left too—"

He paused when he noticed that Russia was staring at him with a rather blank expression. He lowered his arm from where he was drawing the way in the air, exactly when Russia raised his own.

"Wha—"

And suddenly his head was being patted, the movement slow and almost too rhythmical to be true. He flailed and tried to jump away, but only bumped at someone walking past and got pushed right back into Russia's waiting hand.

"What the hell are you doing?" He wouldn't be Poland if he gave up that easily, but the further flailing resulted only in him dropping his bag—

Right on Russia's foot.

Poland gasped and his mind went to his newly bought teacup (so pretty, with cute little leaves on the rim!), then to the big hand that stayed on his head and _squeezed_, sure sign that Russia wasn't unaffected by all his shopping landing on a part of his body.

But this at least made Poland feet justified with his attempt at kick.

What only made Russia move back and pull Poland with himself.

It was an awkward struggle, which left both of them panting and not really sure about how it had started in the first place – and not really able to continue, too, since people slowly started to look at them more and more suspiciously. To Poland's satisfaction Russia got more naughty looks simply because he was bigger and thus more like an offender than a victim.

"You're a jerk," Poland muttered finally, fixing his scarf and hair, noticing with a pout that it got completely messed up. Russia's smile was definitely too tense at this point and even Poland knew that further teasing really wasn't the best idea.

"Nyet, I wasn't the one who was joking about the way."

"What way?"

"To the store." Russia radiated this stubborn aura again.

"What store? Ah—," Poland groaned in realization and finally remembered about picking his bag from the ground, hoping for the cup to be okay_please be okay or else_.

In any other situation he just wouldn't _care_if Russia found his way or not, but the idea of him wandering through the streets of his Warsaw was a little unnerving.

"Whatever," he snapped finally, rising his shoulders to get a better, _safe_grip on his bag. "I'll show you where it is, but once you buy it you're gonna go away!"

With that and a final glare he turned around and started crossing the street, hearing heavy footsteps behind himself and immediately becoming even more annoyed by it. He stopped short when gloved fingers closed around his hand with a bag.

"What are you—"

"It's heavy, right?" Russia slowly took it away from him, all smiles again. "I can help!"

Poland wanted to protest, but the bag was already in Russia's hand and he decided to – with a pout and a quick turn of his head, but _still_– accept the gesture for what it was.

The shop Poland had in mind wasn't too far away; many layers of clothes, crowds of people around and cold air seemed to stretch the way there forever, tough. When they finally arrived and Poland could close the door against the cold air, he couldn't help a sigh, forgetting for a while about who he was with.

Russia didn't forget, though; maybe he also took the happy sound Poland made as a good sign, because he walked further inside and asked, "You were shopping too?"

Poland pouted and poked the wooden stork that's been put by the entrance. "Like, what do you think I was do—"

"No touching" a woman sitting behind the counter scolded him sharply and he jumped, turning a dark shade of red and moving closer to Russia's side.

"What?" he muttered when Russia looked over his shoulder and smiled wider. He didn't get an answer and was left watching as Russia took one of the few Russian dolls standing on the shelf.

Poland looked at the woman expectantly, but she only threw Russia a bored glance and came back to reading some sort of a book.

"Why can he like, touch that stuff?" he protested and immediately moved behind Russia again when she looked up.

"Just checking how many of them are inside!" Russia opened the doll and waved it to her. She raised her eyebrows and shrugged, apparently finding it reasonable enough.

Poland stuck his tongue at her the instant she turned her head in another direction.

"I want this one!" Russia declared finally and started putting all of the dolls inside one another again. Poland could bet new shoes he bought that he was doing it slower than necessary.

"Can't you like, hurry up?" he mumbled, only to get suddenly patted on the head again.

"I'm done!"

Poland spluttered, but couldn't do anything as Russia was paying for the doll already and then they were going out; too soon and too early at the same time, leaving Poland trying not to hide behind his unwanted companion from the suspicious gaze of the woman behind the counter. And damn Russia to hell for being just so big and… hide-able.

"Your face is red," Russia noticed when they were on the street again.

"She let you just because you're bigger!" he answered at this, jumping away.

"Ah, but that isn't what she said!"

"Of course it isn't, like, who'd tell something like—yeah, you can touch that stuff even if no one else is allowed to cuz you're like, one big creepy guy?"

Russia was still smiling, once again with this something more stubborn than happy in his expression.

"I was allowed to touch it because I was checking something and you were just poking the stork—"

"I!" Poland gasped. "I wasn't _poking_it, I was only like… checking what it was made of!"

It definitely had to cause Russia some sort of pleasure, making Poland fidget and struggle with words; at least that's how it looked like, considering that his smile once again turned into a happy one.

"It's not nice to lie, Pol'sha!"

"It's not nice to be a jerk, Rosja!"

Poland grabbed his bag from him and glared. "Anyway! We're totally done! You can go away now!"

Russia seemed to consider this, letting Poland take his bag back. "Ah, but I think I could use a walk now. I really like little Warsaw, you know!"

"Then I'll make it your capital and then—! Wait…" Whatever Poland was bracing himself for it certainly wasn't this. His mouth worked quicker than his head, though, and before he could stop it he found himself falling into a trap of asking.

"You do?"

"Da! I even have my favorite place!"

Poland shifted, angry, distrustful, tired and now suddenly embarrassed on top of it all. "You what?"

"And we'll see it now!" Russia sang and looked up just when they turned around the corner.

Poland knew where they were and knew what Russia saw and the realization hit him with full force.

"You bastard!" he exclaimed, ready to just throttle Russia this time, but his unwanted guest stopped so suddenly that some people bumped into him.

"Like, what is that face for?" Poland asked confused when Russia just stared with the most comical expression.

"…is blue."

"Wha—ah!" he grinned, looking at the source of Russia's confusion. There, right in front of them was the Palace; it raised impressively above all the other buildings, but there was something different about it tonight; the big reflectors were bathing it in a deep blue light. For someone not observant enough it might've seemed painted that color as well.

"Duh it is," Poland stated proudly. "I made it more fabulous! It totally doesn't look like your lame buildings anymore!"

Russia could only stare at so familiar thing he decided to build in the middle of Warsaw what, fifty years ago—and continue to be severely disturbed. "Why the blue—oh," he said when the light changed.

"I chose colors myself", Poland bragged smugly. "It was totally perfect idea! I went to my boss and said, come _on_, don't you think it just looks so lame and _Russian_standing there like this all the time and looking exactly the same! And he was like, nooo because I'm blind and I couldn't see lame even if it like, bit me in the ass! So I tried to talk him into letting me paint it pink or something, but he only agreed on something that would be more temporary and stuff, so I thought more and—"

Russia didn't really look like he was listening to Poland anymore at this point, watching with interest as the lights continued changing.

"...and he said that if I can find a sponsor or _whatever_, but after I did he couldn't think of anything else so—"

"You chose colors?" he wondered out loud finally.

"Like, what did I just say?" Poland exclaimed, his lips turning into a pout.

"Violet!" Russia finally turned his head away from the Palace to look at Poland and smiled. "Like my eyes!"

Poland flushed. "It's pink!" he protested.

Russia giggled and shook his head. "Oh, but I see that it's violet!"

"PINK!" Poland stomped his foot, having no idea why it bothered him so much because hell, couldn't he pick that color randomly anyway?

But somehow…

"My eyes aren't pink."

"Well, I'm not talking about your eyes, asshole—"

"Green!" Russia interrupted him happily and Poland looked over his shoulder only to confirm that indeed, the lower parts of the Palace were now bathed in green light.

"Violet and green." Russia smiled down at him. "Like our eyes!"

Poland groaned, sliding his hand down his face. "Why does it matter anyway? It's also like… totally BIG! Like your NOSE!"

Russia looked down at him in confusion, as if wondering if it should offend him.

Then he smiled. "And like your forehead!"

Poland gasped with outrage. "I have totally cute forehead, you bastard!"

"You do!" Russia agreed without a problem this time and then successfully made Poland's brain explode by leaning in and kissing him right above his eyes.

And for some reason the only thought running through Poland's head was— _no way in HELL I'm gonna kiss his nose!_

* * *

><p>Notes:<p>

The Palace of Culture and Science — basically rather unwanted "gift from the Soviet nation to the nation of Poland". It was hated at first since among other things it was a symbol of actual power that the Soviet Union had over Poland, but then slowly became one of the most recognizable symbols of Warsaw. To this day there are voices that it should be destroyed, but it's too important part of the city now.

The Palace bathed in colorful light in October? Even the violet+green combination? Totally true. Apparently it was supposed to promote some line of cosmetics or whatever. I saw it back in 2009 (yeah, it's pretty old fic idea), but people apparently liked it enough that it got repeated and the Palace is now illuminated on some occasions. It can even get pretty... rainbowy i. imgur. com . / EOGox. jpg Anyway, I think Feliks would probably like something like that a lot, if not think of it himself :)


End file.
